Foolish Games
by Rowen Hashiba Of Tenku Co
Summary: A Song-fic.. See if you can guess who it's for! Or, e-mail me at RowenHashiba@Hotmail.com and ask me...


Foolish Games  
A Fan-Fic By Lucia  
  
  
You took your coat off, Stood in the rain,  
You're always crazy like that.  
And I waltzed from my window, Always felt I was outside, Looking in on you.  
You were always the mysterious one, With dark eyes and careless hair you were, Fashionably sensitive but to cool to care.  
  
The woman sat on a thick tree branch three-quarters of the way up a tree, looking out over the forest below her.  
She wondered what exactly had made her fall for that man, what made her care so much about him.  
She also asked herself whether he really cared about her, or if she was just some play-thing to him.  
She sighed as she thought of him, the man she loved, but she never could tell if he loved her as well.  
He was always so cold. There were glimmers of kindness sometimes. For her, or for others.  
She wished she could know for sure whether he cared or not, because the question burned in her mind, making her long for an answer.  
She smiled slightly and brushed a strand of her light-blue hair out of her face, then sighed, the smile dropping from her face as she asked herself that question again.  
She also wondered why he stuck in the group, when he could easily leave and be done with it.  
She guessed he just loved to fight too much to stop.  
She tried to come up with some reason he would choose her if he did care.  
She couldn't come up with anything.  
She wanted so badly to ask him, but the question stayed hidden. Whenever she tried to ask him, the question caught in her throat, and she found herself unable to put it into words.  
She saught the words to tell him, but always came up empty-handed.  
She realized something suddenly, causing tears to come to her eyes, rolling down her cheeks, but she was too preoccupied by her own realization to check them or wipe them away.  
What she had realized was this:  
He never had told her that he loved her.  
  
And you stood in my doorway, With nothing to say, Besides some comment on the weather.  
Well in case you failed to notice, In case you failed to see, This is me down on my knees.  
These foolish games are tearing me apart, And your thoughtless words are breaking my heart.  
You're breaking my heart.  
  
The man watched the woman from the top of a tree nearby, but he was out of her sight range.  
She didn't see him, but he could see her.  
He wondered what she was thinking about.  
And he asked himself for the thousandth time why he cared so much about her.  
But for all the times he asked himself that question, he never could come up with an answer for himself.  
He had never been a caring person before but why had that changed now?  
He wasn't sure. It seemed so strange to him to care for someone that at first he hadn't even known that he had.  
Feelings were not something common to him.  
Oh, anger came easily enough, as well as pride. But love, remorse, sorrow, nervousness... Those were feelings he had never known. Never needed to know.  
That seemed to have changed, although Kami knew how.  
Or why.  
Then he saw something that startled him.  
Tears streaked the young woman's face, and it shocked the man to see them.  
He had seen the woman as self-reliant and mentally powerful. Nothing seemed to shake her. So what had triggered this?  
He resisted the impulse to go to her, deciding that it was in her better interest, and his, that he did nothing.  
He didn't like to see her crying, although before this it had been almost a sport to see if he could make her cry.  
She was definately a brave woman, never letting anyone see her crying. She hid it well, if ever she had been hurt by his comments.  
Like always, he stood on the tree branch watching, one hand on the tree's trunk, the other to his side.  
He watched idly, as though he was made of stone.  
  
You're always brilliant in the morning, Smoking your ciggarettes, And talking over coffee.  
Your philosophies on art: Bach moved you you loved Mozart.  
And you'd speak of your loved ones, As I clumsily strummed my guitar.  
You'd teach me of honest things, Things that were daring, Things that were clean, Things that knew what an honest dollar did mean.  
  
She put a hand up and brushed away the silver tears on her cheeks, resting her head on the tree's trunk, trying not to think of just what she was thinking about, although it didn't work very well anyway.  
She wondered if he was still training or if he had come home yet. If he wondered where she was, or if he didn't even notice that she was gone.  
She sighed, wiping a hair out of her eyes, and looking forward towards the land, green with trees, stretched out before her.  
She heard a bird's high-pitched call. It seemed almost sad, the sound of it, that is.  
She wanted so badly to get to know him, but he acted as though she wasn't there, unless she was doing something wrong or to insult her or yell a command or other.  
Each time she tried to get him to open up, he brushed her away, ignoring the questions as though they had never been spoken.  
Some were not spoken, only thought of inside her head.  
Never to be spoken.  
She put a hand to her forehead, feeling for the long-forgotten scar of an ancient accident. She didn't find it.  
She wondered if that meant that something was ending.  
Or if something was beginning.  
  
I hid my soiled hands, Behind my back.  
Somewhere along the lines I must have gone off track with you.  
S'cuse me, I think I've mistaken you for somebody else.  
Somebody who gave a damn, Somebody more like myself.  
And these foolish games are tearing me, You're tearing me, You're tearing me apart, And your thoughtless words are breaking my heart. You're breaking my heart.  
You took your coat off, Stood in the rain.  
You're always crazy like that.  
- "Foolish Games" by Jewel  
  
He watched as she wiped her tears away, his eyes watching her with curiousity.  
She looked thoughtful, and serious.  
He wondered what she though about.  
He wondered if he had been the one to make her cry before, if that was what she thought about.  
And he asked himself more questions, although he never had answers for any of them.  
He found himself unable to ask the questions, and they burned inside of him, making him feel as though the questions couldn't be asked, not that he wouldn't ask them.  
He knew though that it would take a kind of will power he did not yet have to ask the kind of questions he wanted to ask.  
Or to say what he needed to say, to tell the woman how much he loved her, how much he cared.  
He saw her stand up and begin the climb downward, and decided that it was time he went back home.  
He turned and leapt into the air to go home.  
  
  
=END=  
  
  
Note:  
We have to assume that this takes place before Chibi-Trunks is born. 


End file.
